


to let it go

by supernaturalsun



Series: to bend and break [3]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, mostly sweet ending tho, set one week after the leafs elimination from the playoffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26238157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturalsun/pseuds/supernaturalsun
Summary: The thing is, there shouldn’t even be a bandage to take off. They never— they nevertalkedexactly about what it was that they were doing. Sure, they dated, were exclusive and everything. They also knew about Tyson’s status at the end of the year and it shouldn’t have snuck up on them like this at the end of the year. Tyson isn’t sure when they complicated things -probably when he developed some feelings- but he clearly didn’t appreciate it right this minute.
Relationships: Frederik Andersen/Tyson Barrie
Series: to bend and break [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905841
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	to let it go

**Author's Note:**

> In the grand tradition of me writing Freddie/Tyson for the weekly challenges.
> 
> Can be read on its own but is set in the same universe as the first parts of this series.
> 
> I know that there are some talks about Freddie leaving now but I didn't know about that until very recently so, let's just pretend there wasn't any talks back at the time of the fic.

Tyson almost misses the knocking on his door. He’s neck-deep into the kitchen cupboards under his sink, electro music blasting from a speaker on the counter. It’s the doorbell ringing loudly that finally puts him to the news that he’s expecting a guest.

He doesn’t bother looking through the peephole and maybe he should have for how it would have saved him from looking somewhere halfway between dazzled and unhappy when he meets Freddie’s eyes on the other side of the doorstep.

“Hi”, Freddie starts when Tyson’s been looking at him for two full minutes, door handle still in his hand.

“Hi”, he says back and it takes him another moment to get his bearings back and gesture Freddie in, closing the front door behind him and surprising himself when he turns back and takes the room in. The main counter is littered with a wine glass half full of red, a pair of scissors, rolls of scotch, his speaker and various other elements. On the ground, a collection of cardboard boxes and chunks of bubble wrap.

Yeah, maybe Tyson had kind of diverted from the organized process he had set up.

When he can barely make out Freddie’s words, Tyson thinks of cutting off the music, grabbing his glass at the same time. It’s only his third, the bottle sitting half empty by the microwave. Maybe he’s a little tipsy, whatever.

“Already packing ?” Freddie repeats and Tyson feels immediately tense at his tone, his free hand going to his neck to scratch his hair there.

Tyson shrugs. “I was taken by a rare wave of motivation so I decided to get started. Better now rather than later.”

Freddie seems to mull his answer over, body all tense lines, his face rigid. It comes to contrast with how soft he looks in grey jeans and what’s actually one of Tyson’s favourite sweaters.

It’s been eight days since their elimination, seven since they were allowed back home, mere miles away from the hotel where they ended up spending only two weeks. The Avs are tearing it up versus the Yotes on TV, sounds low in the living room.

Life in the bubble had been good, great even, Tyson and Freddie spending almost all of their nights together. It had been about spending time together after months apart, comforting each other after the losses, making each other laugh during their free time. Easy, no thinking put into the future.

A week ago, they had parted ways with a hug, Freddie pressing a kiss against Tyson’s neck and tightening his arms around Tyson’s waist maybe a notch harder than usual. Tyson had tried to not put too much meaning into it, willing his throat to stop itching, his eyes staying dry. He’d spent the night on his couch with Ralph, making his way through a pint of ice-cream in front of his favourite romcom. 

That didn’t mean things had to be like this with Freddie right now. Not that Tyson could forget all the stuff his brain had kept himself busy with this week, but. Freddie was still his boyfriend, he probably still deserved better than this Tyson, awkward and unable to even greet him properly.

“And you’re packing everything for which reason exactly ?” Freddie eventually asks. He doesn’t sound _angry_ , per se, but he’s definitely not exactly happy with the spectacle in front of him.

Tyson sighs, rocks on his feet a little, delaying his answer. He decides to settle himself against his counter, leaning his frame against the marble. “I’m ending my lease. There’s no point in me keeping it now. I’ll just have everything shipped home in Victoria to my parents place.”

“You were planning on telling me at some point ?” Freddie’s eyebrows rise and Tyson’s not sure he knows how to read his tone.

“I mean, eventually ?” He says, crossing his arms in front of himself after he’s done with his wine. “Let’s not make a big deal out of this ?”

That quickly feels like the wrong thing to say when Tyson catches Freddie’s long suffering sigh, hands on his hips and chin high. He appears even taller than usual. Tyson knows what an angry Freddie looks like and that’s not it, exactly. This gives more… Tired, _disappointed_. Tyson has a hard time keeping his eyes on him, deflecting his stare to the tiles on the floor.

“You’re still a Leaf,” Freddie states and Tyson can’t help a sad chuckle.

“Not for much longer, you know that.”

He hasn’t really had any exchange with his agent yet but he’s basically waiting for the phone call that’s going to change his whole life around. Except this time he’s way more ready than he was last summer.

Tyson— he loves what he has with Freddie. He probably would come to the conclusion that he loves Freddie, if he allowed himself to really think about it. He doesn’t mind the other guys in Toronto, likes spending time with most of them. The thing is, hockey wise, he can’t spend another year like he just did in Toronto. He can’t stay in a system that doesn’t work for him and sometimes makes him wish he was anywhere but on the ice.

“Tyson—“ Freddie starts.

“Please don’t,” Tyson cuts him immediately.

The last thing he needs right now is a fight. They should be heading there considering the way the conversation is going, the next logical step to figure their step. Tyson has one big second where he thinks he might as well end things completely, rip off the bandage, see Freddie out and finish his bottle of wine on his own. 

The thing is, there shouldn’t even be a bandage to take off. They never— they never _talked_ exactly about what it was that they were doing. Sure, they dated, were exclusive and everything. They also knew about Tyson’s status at the end of the year and it shouldn’t have snuck up on them like this at the end of the year. Tyson isn’t sure when they complicated things -probably when he developed some feelings- but he clearly didn’t appreciate it right this minute.

“I can’t, Fred. I can’t. I— I know we have to talk and like… Fuck.” His throat is starting to give up on him, closing up instead of letting air in. Tyson isn’t crying yet but he can already feel the headache coming. He takes a look at his surroundings, the mess of opened boxes, half his belongings already ready to leave this life behind. It shouldn’t be overwhelming but it is, ridiculously so.

“Tyson.” Freddie, much closer than before, his voice almost a whisper where he is standing in front of Tyson. One of his hands comes up to rub at Tyson’s arm, reassuring, and Tyson blinks. No, he refuses to cry. “Babe, look at me.”

It takes a second and one more deep breath before Tyson obeys. He meets Freddie’s eyes, deep blue he’d lost himself in so many times before, and it manages to calm him down a little. Freddie’s palm moves up to his cheek and Tyson lets himself lean into the contact.

“I love you,” Freddie says quietly and it takes Tyson a moment to realize he didn’t dream it.

“I—” he tries to begin an answer, his words getting stuck inside his throat. Freddie just smiles even bigger at him, his thumb rubbing soothingly on Tyson’s skin.

“It’s okay. I didn’t tell you because I wanted to hear it back. I just needed you to know.”

“I love you too.” He makes sure that Freddie’s really looking at him, understanding how serious he is. “I mean it.”

Freddie’s forehead falls against Tyson’s and they both close their eyes at the same time, taking deep breaths together.

The voices in the background rise, signaling a new Avs goal, Cale by the sound of it. Tyson keeps his head close to Freddie’s, feeling arms hugging his waist, hard.

Tyson let himself sink into Freddie’s embrace, his own hands leaving his chest to lace themselves around the small of Freddie’s back. He tries to leave his head empty, free of the trade issue and of how reminiscent of how this all started the moment is. 

He’s not sure how long they stay like this, the seconds stretching, the TV the only element keeping them from being in an absolute silence. Eventually, Freddie leans back a little, pressing a kiss to Tyson’s forehead.

“Look, it’s good that you packed because if you do stay here next year, you can just come live with me.”

He knows how very low the probability of it happening is but Tyson can recognize the peace offering and conversation exit that Freddie is laying out for him. He takes it.

“You’ll hate it, I’m a terrible roommate.”

“It’s okay, I love you with all of your defaults anyway.” 

“God, that was way too cheesy, stop.”

Freddie’s smile is so beautiful, Tyson honest to god feels warmth spreading in his chest at the sight of it. He takes a second to just _look_ , drinking it in as if he didn’t already have the picture committed to memory, before leaning in for a quick kiss.

“Look, I’m sorry. I— I promise we’ll talk tomorrow. Can we just, pretend that everything is okay for tonight, and go finish a bottle of wine or two on my couch ?”

“Yeah Tyson, we can.”

**Author's Note:**

> come find me @ macknnons :)


End file.
